


The Coming of The Revelation

by Vecieminde



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 1829, Aziraphale being more unpredictable than even Crowley expected, Gen, M/M, Victorian, extinct species, gentlemen not being ones, museum, should have some fun too, slight nightmare atmosphere, slight terror, society
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 17:00:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20510426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vecieminde/pseuds/Vecieminde
Summary: The 1829’s society tests the patience of the certain angelic bookshop owner and the serpent of Eden. A much needed revelation is going to take place.





	The Coming of The Revelation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SleepingReader](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepingReader/gifts).

> This came a bit late but it is a gift for @sleepingreader 
> 
> One of the prompts given to me was
> 
> “Extinct species”
> 
> I wanted to explore a bit different side of Aziraphale and then I had this idea. I hope you all will enjoy it!
> 
> Next chapter will come up probably sometime this week.
> 
> Feel free to leave feedback.

1829

It was boney. Well, of course, it was; it was a skeleton after all.The skeleton of Plesiosaurs, to be precise, or so at least the booklet told him. For his disappointment, there wasn’t much else written about the creature, except for where was it found and a few speculations about what kind of animal it might have been. Aziraphale proceeded to inspect the fossil in greater detail. He traced his eyes over the cracked surface of the bones, reminding the viewer of its age. The creature appeared to be still thinking that it was living in the ocean, hunting its prey. Only now the skin and life were gone. The life that had never been there in the first place.

“When do you think they will figure it out?” asked an unexpected voice so close to his ear that he felt the touch of warm breath.

It must be noted that Aziraphale almost always knew when he was approached by Hell’s number one representative on Earth. The stress on the word “almost". But to his credit, Aziraphale didn’t react much on the surprise. He was often proud of his subtlety and discretion, which were now highly thought of in England. Just a sharp inhale and shut eyes were enough on his part. Unfortunately for him, his companion was very well accustomed to his mannerisms and he could read Aziraphale like an open book.

“Did I scare you? Even after all those years?” Crowley chuckled.

“You didn’t scare me. You caught me off-guard. These are two very different things,” Aziraphale responded defensively, crumpling the edge of his top hat in his hand.

His eyes met Crowley's sunglasses. Even though he couldn't see the golden serpentine eyes that hid behind them, Aziraphale knew that his companion was scrutinizing him as much as he was.

After all, they hadn’t seen each other for almost three decades.

Crowley had changed yet again. He was dressed in all black, so black that Aziraphale considered it to be dark even for a demon; his new shades' had glasses on both sides, hiding eyes now from every angle. His frock was obviously well-made and since he was slender and the outfit slim, then for Aziraphale, Crowley had seemed to have grown a lot taller since he last saw him. The top hat did not do much to help to prove otherwise. Thankfully, the face was mostly the same, if you didn’t consider the ginger sideburns. Aziraphale was glad. He liked Crowley’s face.

“Well? What do you think then?” The demon said, supporting himself on a cane with a head of a cobra as a handle. Aziraphale had to repress the urge to roll his eyes at the extravagant accessory.

He turned to look at the skeleton again. People were right when they said it was old. Millions of years - the academics had declared in the booklet. That was where they were wrong; it was old but not that old.

“I do not think they will figure it out any time soon. I have noticed that She usually prefers the long game. I don’t believe it is any different with...” he checked the booklet, “with the dinosaurs. Dinosaurs? Really?” He couldn’t believe the name.

Crowley shrugged: “ There are stranger things that humans have come up with.”

“I suppose,” agreed Aziraphale.

They both looked at the remains of the creature who had never lived.

Aziraphale was curious. Why had Crowley come here? It was obvious he had searched him out. One might think that he took an interest in the current exhibition, but Crowley was far too restless today to be genuinely interested.

Oh yes, Crowley could read Aziraphale like an open book but such as well could Aziraphale read Crowley and his body language. Crowley kept his posture but he shifted on his legs a little too much. He wanted something.

“You can tell me what is on your mind,” Aziraphale encouraged the demon with a soft smile and a gentle tone.

Crowley froze.

“What makes you think I have something on my mind?” he tried to divert from answering.

Incredulous look and raised eyebrow from the angelic companion were enough for him to give in. He sighed and his face fell.

“I need a favour,” he admitted.

“What kind of a favour?” Aziraphale squinted his eyes at the demon in suspicion.

Is it yet another temptation? - he wondered.

Crowley opened his mouth to answer, but then their conversation was cut short by two gentlemen who had carelessly pushed through, knocking them to opposite directions. Aziraphale found the push, and above all, the man's indifference so offensive that he was very close to challenging him to a duel if it hadn't been considered a bad taste.

The two men came to stand between them, studying the creature. One of them was an older gentleman with giant sideburns and a highly prideful gaze; his posture was straight and precise. His companion was younger, looking like an inexperienced but well-off city lad. Aziraphale wasn’t wrong in his observation.

“And this, Mr Atkins, is a very well preserved skeleton of Plesiosaurs, a creature, who used to roam in the very same waters that surround our kingdom today,” the older man said, presenting the exhibit like it was his own.

“Hmm. Will there be more to come?” Mr Atkins asked.

“I am sure there are. This is a new field in science. This,” the older gentleman pointed to the skeleton, “proves that our history might be a lot longer than we have considered it to be. And will yourself to think about other things too Mr Atkins. Not only are they extremely valuable to us, Geological Society of London , but to the collectors too, who are rather keen on obtaining such specimens. Although, if I do say so myself, they are more interested in the prestige than the history and science behind the artefact. However, I am in no position to judge since the science and Society are more than happy to accept kind-hearted donations. Everyone wins from the financing. We can examine and dissect and others can collect and admire.”

Mr Atkins seemed to think about it.

Aziraphale didn’t like the gentlemen. Mr Atkins was young and arrogant in his attitude. The one, whose name had the angel not yet learned, had a very unpleasant demeanour. The man's smile was not sincere but slick in a weasel-kind-of way. His face was cold and calculated. And his greenish-brown eyes were full of greed.

Aziraphale peeked over the men to see if his demon had noticed that aura. Crowley was staring ahead of himself, or at least that is what the blonde being thought he was doing since his eyes were staying hidden behind the glasses. Crowley didn’t move, his neck was tense and jaw fixed, and that is how Aziraphale knew that he was paying close attention to the exchange and that he didn’t like them either.

“This could be an interesting investment, Lord Houdsworth.”

Aziraphale’ s whole body froze. He knew the man. He knew things about him.

“My father wouldn’t approve,” the young man continued, “He considers everything that has nothing to do with new machinery and practical matters a waste of time and money. I, personally, do find the theoretical part of science and inventions equally fascinating. And collectors are indeed keen on adding objects to their collections. You say there could be more?”

“We have many people in our disposal, who have a knack for finding those well-preserved parts and sometimes even full examples of extinct species such as this one.” They turned to look at thePlesiosaurus; as if it had a final say in the matter. Even if it did, Aziraphale doubted that the men would have listened.

“If I may be so frank, Mr Atkins, do you have a wife?” Lord Houdsworth suddenly inquired.

“Not yet, but I am engaged. Father arranged it. I didn’t have much say in the matter, but she is from a respectable family and she is the eldest of all the children.”

“Ah, an heir," Lord Houdsworth nodded in understanding, "I am a married man myself, and let me tell you something about women, Mr Atkins. They are simple beings with few specific needs that need to be provided for. Ideally, after that, they should be content and do what they are best at."

“And what is that?”

“Being a respectable wife and a generous host. As much as I would prefer it to be the other way around, then women are considered to be the representation of the whole household. If they are not honourable, then all household is deemed to be that way too. You have to be careful of whom you choose to marry. They have to be efficient and know what is expected of them. Women are necessary but simple beings. They can't handle higher ideas; nature and God has just not made them that way. We, men, have to sometimes remind them of that; so that they don't get lost and that they will follow their path. It is where they are their best." Lord Houdsworth paused and sighed with false regret.

"There was this poor girl, who tried to examine and analyze the very same Plesiosaurs. She thought that she can discover something vital about the creature. She came to our society, you see, and presented her work. It was fascinating and she was a lovely young lady, head full of ideas.

But these weren’t her ideas. She had no proper education or experience in the field, and so we had to come to the conclusion that somebody had helped her. I don't think she stole those ideas, but I do think that most of these were from someone else, probably an academic or an educated enthusiast.

I feel for the women. It is not their fault that their functionalities lay elsewhere. I had to remind that to her and also tell her that Geological Society of London can not, unfortunately, accept her. She wanted to join our society, Mr Atkins. But we couldn't possibly accept her, higher science can get way too rough and difficult to understand for the fairer sex. And the saddest part is that even if they try with all their might; they can never be equal to a man's mind. Women were created for the home. Men for the world. Women take care of our household and be a safe place to return to. Men are meant for exploration and thought. That is why we must guide and help those who are inferior altogether. To help them live according to their abilities. With no lies or illusions about reality. I think it is the noblest thing one person could do to another. Don't you agree, Mr Atkins?”

“You are a wise man Lord Houdsworth. You put things perfectly in perspective. Such minds should not be stopped by the lack of finances. I have decided that I would like to invest in your next project," Mr Atkins said with a certain amount of adoration and enthusiasm.

Lord Houdsworth’s face glowed with satisfaction.

“I am so very glad to hear that. We can discuss the details in my office. If it is suitable for you?” the weasel had gotten his prey.

“Of course,” Mr Atkins smiled and the two gentlemen started to walk away.

Aziraphale’s teeth were clenched and his top hat had some deep dents thanks to the tight grip.

His whole body was tense and his eyes were filled with poison.

Crowley came to stand beside the angel and slowly raised his cane, cobra head threateningly pointing towards the backs of Mr Atkins and Lord Houdsworth. Aziraphale noticed this and disapprovingly put his hand on the cobra to lower it down.

“They deserve a little something,” Crowley told him in a low, dangerous, almost demonic voice. Aziraphale had not heard that voice in a long while.

Angel straightened his back when he followed the men with his eyes, showing nothing but apathy: “No...”

Crowley groaned.

“We need something more elaborate,” the apathy in angel's eyes shifted. It swirled and turned like water in the storm until it transformed into full abhorrence. Dangerous abhorrence.

Crowley stared at him in slight shock. Aziraphale turned to look at him with expectancy.

The demon saw that Aziraphale was wearing a cream frock, his hair was still curly and light, his angles were still soft. He was very much Aziraphale; like he always was. But the pure loathing in the angel's eyes and a smile of wickedness created a disturbing contrast. At that moment he had appeared more threatening than any demon could ever be.

And for the shortest of seconds, Crowley was, for the first and for the last time in his existence, afraid of Principality Aziraphale.

"Any ideas?" the angel asked, his familiar self returning.

Crowley relaxed. A grin slowly made its way onto his face.

“I may have one idea.”

“Excellent,” Aziraphale replied and they both directed their gaze onto a door, what Mr Atkins and Lord Houdsworth had used to leave the exhibition hall, unaware of what was to come.


End file.
